


Reflection

by Superdillin



Series: Epilogue [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 01:57:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8778574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superdillin/pseuds/Superdillin
Summary: Seren Lavellan feels the weight of his responsibility under Inquisitor Ameridan's armour as he anticipates what must come next for himself and for the Inquisition.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize in advance.

Seren didn’t recognize himself in this armor, the armor of the Inquisitor before him.  They suited him, in battle against the dragon, against the Hakonites, and countless other enemies along the way.  But meeting the old Inquisitor had changed him, the way his life paralleled his own shook him and made him too aware of his lack of control over his own fate. He stared too long at his reflection in the weight of this new armour, trying to make sense of things.

Dorian, Cassandra, and whatever _used_ to be Cole, had come with him to attempt to close the remaining rifts in the Frostback Mountains, and ally with the people there.  Closing all remaining rifts after the final victory against Corypheous was necessary, and finding out about the last Inquisitor and his fate was a worthy cause, but befriending the locals and playing the old game of favors and small errands was merely a distraction.  A distraction that Seren insisted was as necessary as closing the Breach itself. 

He knew this was it.  Before their final stand against The Elder One, he already saw the pieces of his support fracturing off.  And he’d encouraged them all.  Of course, how could he not?  He wanted to feel remorse, to go back and rewrite conversation to make them stay.  But each time he replayed it in his head he knew more and more that he couldn’t change this.

And why would he?  Cassandra would do wondrous things with the Seekers of Truth.  She’s as strong in mind as she was on the battlefield, able to convince any man to reconsider his beliefs.  The institution would be saved, thanks to her.  He knew she was meant for this. 

And of course, Blackwall needed to make amends with the wardens.  With everything that transpired, they needed him, too.  Seren remembered the white hot anger that filled his chest when he learned of Blackwall’s true identity, but it has since faded into a deep pride for the way he’s redeemed himself.

Varric would be back off to Kirkwall to write, and to make right some old wrongs, surely.  He deserved it, and as much as it pained him to admit - even if only silently to himself - he was glad to have Varric as the one to document and novelize the path of the Inquisition.   _He’d get it right,_  Seren thought. _Help them remember we were people._

  
Cole could be gone at any moment, or might be already.  Solas vanished the second Corypheous was defeated.  Vivienne was already back in Orlais climbing her way to…whatever it was that she wanted.  Leliana’s duty as Divine would not allow her to stay very much longer.  And Dorian…

  
The weight of Ameridan’s armour felt increasingly crushing as Seren’s thoughts travelled.  He removed it, piece by piece, placing them carefully on the table in his quarters.  They looked as looming and heavy as they felt.  Twice now an elf would lose everything in that suit of armour.  As he placed the last piece down he felt the ever-present ache in his hand grow, and he braced himself.  

  
All at once, the ache exploded into a blinding, searing pain as green fire spat from the open wounds in his hand.  It brought him to his knees before subsiding back to the slow ache.  He looked into the mirror now, the sight almost unbearable. 

  
“The Herald of fucking Andraste.” He spat at himself. _Under that armour, I’m just…this_

  
Down to his small clothes, face red and soaked with tears, his mangled hand spitting magic flames.  He looked here and now as he truly felt.  Helpless and lost, unable to control anything that mattered.  Dying. He thought for sure.  He had no idea how long it would take, but he just knew.  

  
“You have to tell him,” He whispered to his reflection.  “He can save Tevinter after I fucking die.”

  
His mumblings kept him from hearing Dorian entering their quarters and heading up the stairs to him.  “Muttering to ourselves, are we?  Whatever shall we do with you, Inquisitor?” He mocked as he turned into the room to see his lover, leader of the Inquisition, crumpled on the floor, red and sullen.  His eyes widened and his voice changed as he ran to kneel beside him.  “Amatus?  What is it?”

  
Seren saw his favorite eyes scanning him for wounds before waiting for an answer.  Inside his heart was screaming at him, _Say it, tell him, beg him.  The mark is getting worse, we haven’t got any time. Stay._  He looked deeply into his Vhenan’s panicked eyes and caught the reflection of the laid out armour behind him.  The words were just on the tip of his tongue.

  
“Dorian, it’s alright.  I just felt…overwhelmed by everything we learned about Inquisitor Ameridan.  I let it get to me, I’m sorry to have worried you.” Not a lie. A truth with pieces missing.  

  
“Amatus,” His panicked look slowly faded to a quizzical one, then to a smile.  “Of course it did.  I told you no one would thank you for saving the world.  I’m sorry to be so right all the time.” His cocky smirk actually helped Seren relax for a moment, remembering why he loved this man. 

  
As they stood up, Seren felt almost as heavy as before, as if the armour were still on.   _I guess it never truly comes off,_ he thought before pulling his lover in for the kiss they both needed.  Dorian’s fingers slowly dried each remaining tear from Seren’s face while he guided him, slowly, by the hand to bed.  

**Author's Note:**

> I also apologize in the post script.


End file.
